Page 34 of Dance with the Dragon Duke

“It’s not that,” Tomorrow insisted. “I promise it’s not. I’ve just been treated bymanyhealers and physicians, mortal and immortal. I’m confident I’ve had all the best care the Faelands has to offer.”

Dark felt his own gaze narrowing. He didn’t like her choice but wasn’t certain his opinion should count for much. But dammit, he wanted his wishes to matter. This was his mate.

Perhaps it was past time he told her that.

Susan’s eyes darted between them. “Looks like you’re in good hands, love. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

The madam had the greatest intuition of anyone Dark had ever met, mortal or immortal. She quit the room without another word, closing the door quietly behind her.

Dark laid Tomorrow across his lap. He used one of the cloths the maid had left to clean dried blood from her face. The bond responded to this act of tender care, warming his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing back the ashen strands.

“Don’t look so worried,” she said.

“I’ll look how I want,” he retorted, but there was no bite in his words.

She frowned. “I feel like I ruined everything. We were about to have so much fun.”

“The beauty of being immortal is there’s plenty of time for fun,” he soothed. “You ruined nothing, but while we’re on the subject, your cousin Glen will now be getting two daggers in his leg.”

Her laughter brought out that winning smile of hers. Star fire glittered in her sunrise eyes. Her teeth were pearls. Her hair, white diamonds. Even under the weather, she sparkled.

Dark laced his fingers with hers and flattened them over his breast. “Do you feel that?”

“I feel . . .” Her pale lashes fluttered.

“Mate of my heart,” he whispered.

“I . . .” She blinked so rapidly her lashes blurred. “I didn’t know I could do that—could have a mate. I’m mostly human.” A hint of a smile tugged up the corner of her mouth. Precious delight backlit her gaze.

Then her expression darkened. She shook her head, and what little joy there was, horror replaced it.

“What’s wrong?” He squeezed her fingers gently.

“It doesn’t matter what we feel . . . We can’t bond.”

His instincts roiled. Her reaction was too strong for that to be the end of it. There was more she wasn’t saying. “Where are you going?”

She stood from the bed, her cheeks paling. “To my chair. I need a nap.”

“Another one?” He couldn’t keep the growl out of his words.

Her next exhale was long and labored. “I’m just so tired.”

He took a breath to steady his tone, then he tried again. “Tomorrow, even if you don’t feel the connection of the blooming bond, we’re compatible. We’re mates.”

Slinking across the room, she shook her head. “We can’t be mates.”

Her words hit him like a kick in the stomach. His nostrils flared. “Well, we are.”

She waved his words away, the gesture uncharacteristically heartless. “Immortals have lots of mates. It’s not as though we’re true mated. You’ve had pairs before, surely?”

“Yes,” he said through his teeth. But he hadn’t wanted any of them. He wanted her, dammit.

“Good.” Tomorrow sunk into the chair. She wrestled the fur blanket over her. “That’s … That’s good.”

“We’re mates.” His hands made fists in the bedding. With effort, he released the fabric before he tore it.

“You keep saying that—”

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